The drought continues. In fact, yesterday morning we woke to not a single drop of water in our taps! So far the rain forecast either comes to nothing or it might yield 5mm – that does little more than settle the dust for a little while. This is the second summer in a row that I have not been able to grow vegetables or much in the way of flowers. Yet, there continues to be some colour and things of interest in our garden. The ever faithful frangipani (also known as Plumeria) is blooming beautifully and exudes the most delightful scent once the sun sets and the garden settles down for the night.
No matter how hot and dry it gets, we can always rely on the Plumbago to provide colour – and such pleasing colour too.
The hibiscus shrubs were already mature when we moved here three decades ago. Their long-lasting blooms too never disappoint.
I am very pleased that the variety of petunias I planted in containers in December continue to provide happy splashes of colour.
Then there are insects, such as this bee foraging on the tiny flowers of a tall weed.
I come across a spider-hunting wasp (Pompilidae) outside the kitchen door.
It is under the lip of an outside windowsill that I see a potential danger lurking in the form of two South African Paper Wasps in the throes of building their intricate nest.
End note: The water supply is trickling back in our pipes.
The heat of summer is scorchingly upon us – along with the absence of much-needed rain. Bird baths require filling more than once a day and current restrictions prevent the garden from receiving the watering it needs to flourish, yet most plants are surviving. I have already shown the beautiful blossoms of the Cape Chestnut and the Pompon trees, so will look much lower.
Field Bindweed – so difficult to eradicate owing to their long underground runners – twists its way between the lavender bushes and climbs up the Spekboom. It has a beauty of its own.
The small clump of Gladiolus dalenii has increased over the years and is now providing beautiful colour outside the kitchen.
Numerous butterflies are flitting about – most are too high for me to photograph. Many of them are (I think) Acara Acraea.
All over the garden self-sown Crossberries are blooming.
As are scented pelargoniums.
Lastly, the Plumbago blossoms are looking particularly beautiful right now.
From the magnificence of the trees around us to a closer look in the garden. Cosmos flowers have been delighting us for months. They keep re-seeding themselves and so the bed has been a mass of pink, white and a combination of these colours. The flowers are so prolific that one actually has to look closely to see the seed heads.
The Pompon trees were among the first to put out leaves at the start of spring and it has been delightful to watch their skeletal branches getting lost in the thick foliage, leaving only the dried reminders of the flowers from last season.
Recent rain has encouraged the buds to swell, to allow glimpses of pink to show, and now these trees are covered with beautiful pink blossoms that will need to be showcased on their own. Pink is cheerful – and we are enjoying a lot of it at the moment. Pale blue is also welcome and so are the plumbago flowers that are starting to make their presence felt next to our pool and along the garden path.
Blue, blue, my world is blue
Blue is my world since I’m without you …
So sang Marty Robins, associating blue with the feeling of sadness, as in ‘I am feeling blue’. Among the symbolic meanings ascribed to the colour blue is a feeling of calm and serenity; a sense of social distancing (in the sense before the arrival of the pandemic); and cold in terms of emotions. Then too, we talk about something happening ‘once in a blue moon’, or describe the bad start of a week as experiencing a ‘blue Monday’. Whatever your interpretation of blue might be, it is a natural colour only clouds and the cover of night can hide from us. A blue sky is a part of our world – how fortunate we are that it is not bright red!
Blue flowers include a morning glory:
The flowers of rosemary are also blue:
This flower arrangement has elements of blue:
I will leave you with this interesting image of a church tower that has been painted blue:
Having waited months for rain and watched the dams dry up, the grass shrivel and die, leaves fall off trees to expose bare branches, and to live under relentless blue skies so beautiful it hurt to look up in the intense heat day after day, after day … it rained. Not enough to ease our water situation – our town still has no running water available several days in the week – but enough for nature to take the gap and do what it should have been able to do in the spring. To quote from Keats, we had to ask Where are the songs of Spring? / Ay, where are they? Now, as summer barrels towards autumn, we are experiencing a spring-like growth in the garden. Not only are the trees that were so bare a matter of weeks ago able to cast deep shade, but the Pompon trees (Dais cotinifolia) are sporting tiny flower buds.
Cosmos seeds planted with enthusiasm at the end of winter have blossomed at last.
The Van Staden’s River Daisy (Dimorphotheca ecklonis) is putting out a few blossoms that are attracting insects.
Crossberry (Grewia occidentalis) flowers are out.
So are the Plumbago (Plumbago auriculata).
Soon the garden will be brightened when the Cape Honeysuckle (Tecoma capensis) comes out in full bloom.
Don’t for a moment think my garden is awash with flowers. These are the few, very few, that have made it through a scorching summer. The important thing is that they have survived and are doing their best to ensure the survival of their species.